A Side Order of Shrimp
by Waistcoat-Dave
Summary: Can being a waitress with your girlfriend be romantic? Reagan thinks so! A Reamy love story that I shall be posting in instalments.
1. Chapter 1

A Side Order of Shrimp

Chapter 1

Amy Raudenfeld lay on her bed, her laptop open in front of her and she was indulging in one of her favourite past times: watching documentaries. She was currently watching Into The Abyss on Netflix and despite only being halfway through she had learned more about the death penalty than she had ever learned at school and had arrived at the conclusion that Werner Herzog was a truly exceptional film maker. She heard a gentle tapping on the window behind her and paused the documentary as a wide smile spread across her face. She knew instantly who it was, Karma always used the front door when she came to see Amy, so that meant that the person tapping the window was none other than…

"Reagan!" Amy exclaimed with delight the minute she had opened the window. The purple haired DJ sprang through the window landing on top of Amy and laughed.

"Hey Shrimp Girl, miss me?" she said with a teasing smile.

"Of course. I always miss you, apart from when you're here, because then you're here so why would I be missing someone who is right here, that would be…" Amy said, her sentence freewheeling out of control and turning into a mess. Reagan laughed and placed a shushing finger on Amy's lips halting the tsunami of words.

"Amy, you're burbling again." She said, with a slight chuckle. Amy's eyes widened and then she smiled back.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm getting better at controlling myself. I haven't been the cause of _any_ awkwardness at Hester this month." She said triumphantly. Reagan sat up and applauded Amy's achievement, biting her lip as she did so. Amy smiled, that lip bite was one of the most adorable things that her girlfriend did and it was all subconsciously. She'd never thought she'd love someone as much as she had loved Karma and yet she found it a lot easier and a lot more enjoyable and rewarding to be in love with someone who was a genuine bona fide lesbian. Karma would always be her best friend, but now her love was reserved for a girl who was never guilty of faking it.

"So, are you doing anything exciting this weekend?" Reagan asked hopefully, a little sparkle in her eye that told Amy that there was a plan brewing in her DJ brain.

"Not at the moment," Amy said truthfully, "do you have any suggestions?"

"As a matter of fact, I do!" Reagan responded with a big smile, climbing off of Amy to give her some wiggle room.

"Do tell."

"Do you remember how we met?"

"You constantly call me Shrimp Girl, I'm hardly likely to forget." Amy laughed, punching Reagan playfully on the arm.

"Well, I've got another waitressing job on Saturday aaaaand I need someone to be my co-waitress or rather I need someone to pretend to be my co-waitress." Reagan said, eyebrows raised hopefully and simultaneously smiling whilst biting her lip.

"Huh?" Amy said, her response causing Reagan to deflate slightly.

"C'mon pleeeease! It'll be romantic, it'll be just like the first time we met except you'll be a sexy waitress and not a sexy Shrimp Girl." Reagan said in an oddly seductive manner, leaning closer to kiss Amy tenderly on the lips.

"Reagan that is," Amy paused for a moment and actually thought about what Reagan was proposing, "actually a really sweet idea. I'm in!" Reagan punched the air in triumphant joy, wrapped her arms around Amy's waist and kissed her in that way that made her feel as if she was far above the Earth – floating among the clouds.

"Mum, can I go out this Saturday?" Amy asked sweetly much to her mother's surprise.

"Amy, you've never asked me for permission to go out before, why are you doing so now?" Farrah asked, looking at her daughter with surprise mixed with a dash of suspicion.

"Because she's clearly up to something." Lauren Cooper said nastily, shooting one of her venomous death glares at her stepsister. Amy glared right back and a staring match was moments away from breaking out when Farrah interrupted.

"Well? _Are_ you up to something?" she asked sounding concerned.

"Yes, if you must know." Amy retorted, the quickness of her response surprising both her mother and her stepsister. Regardless, Lauren still pulled a triumphant "I knew it!" face.

"What is it?" Farrah asked slowly, her voice quiet and scared – hoping it wasn't going to be anything "lesbian-centric".

"I'm being a waitress at a business function." Amy said with a weak smile, hoping that her lie wouldn't be seen through. Farrah's eyes widened and her jaw dropped while Lauren loudly choked on a mouthful of orange juice.

"Oh Amy, that is so _responsible_!" Farrah said with a smile, hugging her daughter tightly. Amy's eyes bulged as her mother's hug was in danger of rupturing her lungs. She made eye contact with Lauren who glared at her.

"That is such _crap_! I don't know what you're up to, but I _will _find out!" Lauren snapped and stormed out of the room. Farrah watched her go looking worried, but she turned back to Amy with a wide beaming smile.

"It's so nice to see you do something worthwhile with your weekends! A waitressing event will help you get your mind of Karma!" Farrah said happily, before leaving the room with a noticeable spring in her step.

"Oh you have no idea." Amy said to herself, her head filled with thoughts of Reagan. She was ready for what was sure to be the best Saturday in a long time.

Amy and Karma sat together, leaning against a tree safe from the blistering heat in the cool shade provided by the canopy. They had been sat against the tree in complete silence, not an awkward silence, but a comfortable silence. No words needed to be said for them to enjoy each other's company. Karma turned to Amy.

"What you thinking about?" she asked with a smile.

"I'm trying to communicate with you telepathically." Amy responded sounding deep in concentration.

"Oh… How's it going?"

"Have you thought about Belgian Waffles in the last ten minutes?"

"No.

"Then it's going terribly." Amy said, pouting and folding her arms in a mock huff. Karma laughed and squeezed Amy's shoulder.

"Give it time, a little bit of practice and you'll be a regular Professor X."

"Thank you." Amy said with a warm smile.

"Anyways, forget about your telepathy, I want to know all about what you and Reagan have got planned for this weekend!"

"What makes you think I'm spending time with Reagan this weekend?" Amy asked, doing her best to sound peeved. Karma thought for a second and then her eyes widened with a thought.

"Do you want to hang out this weekend?"

"I can't." Amy said sounding perplexed.

"That's fine. So, what are you doing with Reagan this weekend?" Karma asked, with a knowing wink. Amy's mouth dropped open.

"So not cool!"

"Clever though, am I right?"

"Yes, very clever." Amy concurred. Karma didn't let the reluctant compliment knock her from her line of questioning.

"So… you and Reagan… spill it." She said, repeatedly poking Amy in the arm. Amy rolled her eyes and smiled. Barely able to contain her excitement, Amy turned to face Karma.

"Well…"

To Be Continued…


	2. Chapter 2

A Side Order of Shrimp

Chapter 2

The event venue was enormous – big enough to put Gatsby's manor to shame. There were people of vast wealth talking to other men and women of vast wealth and in the midst of all the gaudy richness were Reagan and Amy. Neither of them felt at ease in such a place. Reagan was used to waitressing at large events but never ones that were so lavish and extravagant. She couldn't even begin to imagine how much money it would cost to live in such a place. She could feel her fingers twitching – her subconscious reminding her that her true calling was being a DJ. She'd much rather be looking at a crowd of shirtless ravers who had daubed themselves in glow-in-the-dark paint rather than a room full of people in crisp tuxedos and sparkly red dresses. Meanwhile, far away across the room was Amy who felt utterly lost – she had never waitressed in her life so she didn't have the slight advantage that Reagan had. She was weaving her way through the throngs of people, barely noticing when they plucked glasses of wine off her tray.

Amy was more than used to her mother's middle class posing, but it was one thing to have a second bathroom… it was quite another to have five. Amy would much rather be watching a Louis Theroux documentary on Netflix than standing alone in a sea of hedge fund managers. As she wandered aimlessly through the crowd she felt a hand land upon her shoulder. She turned around at breakneck speed letting a small yelp pass between her lips. The woman in the dark blue dress let go of Amy's shoulder very quickly.

"Erm… sorry." Amy said, her cheeks glowing red with embarrassment.

"It's quite alright," the woman said unconvincingly, "I thought you might like to know your tray is bare." Amy looked at the tray and saw that the woman was right.

"I am so sorry, I'll go and get that sorted." Amy said and dashed in the direction of the kitchen thankful for any excuse to escape from the claustrophobic atmosphere. She burst through the doors into the bright white kitchen area and saw the battalion of chefs hard at work. She put her empty tray down on a blank surface and let out a long heavy sigh. She did a quick scan of the room and couldn't see any trace of Reagan. She sidled up to one of the chefs who was delicately assembling intricate, complex and aesthetically gorgeous horderves.

"Excuse me, has Reagan been in here recently? Amy asked timidly. The Chef looked up at her.

"Are you Amy?" he asked, his voice smooth with a hint of Italian to it.

"Yes."

"Reagan's just left, you must have passed by her on your way in."

"Oh…" Amy said with disappointment, "I'll just grab some more champagne glasses and get back out there."

"Oh no, Reagan's on champagne duty now, _you _need to be on horderve duty. Once I've finished this last one you can take them with you. Reagan said that you had a fondness for these particular horderves." The Chef said conversationally. Amy looked puzzled.

"She did? What are they?"

"Shrimp mainly." The Chef said and Amy smiled, a wide grin spreading across her face. The Chef finished off the last of his mini masterpieces and Amy brought her tray over and placed the minute and inconceivably delicate foodstuffs onto it. The Chef ambled off to craft some culinary sorcery in another part of the kitchen. Amy finished loading up the tray with its shrimpy cargo and headed out of the safe haven of the kitchen and into the sea of new money.

"Once more into the fray." She murmured to herself before donning a false smile and making her way through the crowd. As she progressed slowly on a circuit of the vast room she noticed a figure appear beside her.

"Well if it isn't Shrimp Girl." The voice said in a friendly tone with a small laugh. Amy turned her head and saw Reagan grinning sweetly at her.

"Y'know, I'm not overly thrilled about this." Amy said trying to adopt a stern tone, which was undermined by her total failure at keeping a straight face.

"Yes you are, because you're like a female version of my favourite superhero."

"Carrying a tray of shrimp is vastly different from being Lady Aquaman." Amy said with a laugh.

"Fine. But we both know you like being Shrimp Girl." Reagan said, gently and discreetly planting a soft kiss on Amy's neck.

"I guess I do," Amy said, "I mean we wouldn't have met if it wasn't for shrimp."

"It's funny how things work out. Our love story could never be a film, could it?" Reagan mused.

"I don't know, I could totally see Richard Curtis directing a rom-com called 'Shrimp Actually'." Amy said in a sincere tone causing Reagan to let out a short but loud laugh that turned a few heads. She looked embarrassed and parted from Amy and headed across the room.

"See you later." She called back, blowing a kiss. Amy continued on her way around the room noticing that the elite were only paying attention to the shrimp and not the person who was carrying the tray. Reagan made her way through the crowd and as she went the rich and powerful plucked champagne from her tray. When she had been relieved of her last glass she tucked the tray under her arm and headed towards the kitchen. As she reached the doors her path once more converged with Amy.

"Oh I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon." Amy said, her eyes widening.

"Likewise." Reagan said putting her arm around Amy and smiling. They both entered the kitchen at the same time and they saw The Chef that Amy had received the shrimp from.

"Hey, we're going to have a break." Reagan said.

"Sure. The other waiting staff can go out there. As long as the champagne keeps flowing and the shrimp keeps shrimping then all shall be well."

"Great! See you later." Reagan said with a smile. Then she grabbed Amy by the hand and the two girls headed to the back of the kitchen and out of the rear door. They stepped out into the night. There was wide open land before them, all of it belonged to the owner of the house. There was a tall crooked and quite ancient tree standing alone not too far from the house. The two girls walked slowly over to it, hearing the blades of grass stroking their uniform trousers. When they reached the tree they sat down upon the lush grass and leaned back against the hard yet oddly comfortable trunk. Reagan rested her head on Amy's shoulder as they both looked up into the night sky. It was an impenetrable sea of darkest blue merging and mixing with pitchest black. Swimming in the airborne ocean were the stars – gently twinkling, blessing the Earth below with meagre scraps of celestial light. In the centre of it all was the full moon – a cosmic colossus producing waves of silvery light. Far off in the distance a wolf howled.

"Werewolf." Amy said almost instantly.

"You watch too much Teen Wolf." Reagan said softly.

"Isn't this beautiful?" Amy asked, wisely choosing to ignore the Teen Wolf comment.

"It is. I bet you didn't think a waitressing job would be this nice did you?" Reagan asked warmly.

"I didn't. Once again you have made something so mundane seem so wonderful." Amy whispered.

"You do know I have _nothing _to do with the full moon right?" Reagan asked cautiously.

"With or without the moon you being here with me makes this night extraordinary." Amy said leaning in to kiss Reagan.

"Although if you knew anyone who _could _control the moon… it would be me." Reagan quipped as she leaned forwards.

"Definitely." Amy confirmed and then all verbal communication ceased as their lips met. Beneath the moon, beneath the tree Reagan and Amy kissed each other tenderly and passionately. Time meant nothing – had it stopped, had it sped up? Had they been kissing for hours or only mere seconds? Neither of them knew, but as their fingers entwined and their lips locked they did know one thing with absolute certainty: they didn't want this moment to end.

To Be Continued…


End file.
